Chamomile and Conversation
by WithDropsofJupiterInHerHair
Summary: "What's so awfully important that you can't just let me be for a few minutes?" He turned, lips twisting to the side as he awaited a response. "You." Harry replied simply, watching with fascination as a gentle rosy glow formed it his boyfriend's cheeks. "Something's been bothering you all day. We tell each other everything, Lou." Larry Stylinson. One Direction.


**Unsurprisingly enough, I have found home in yet another fandom- this time the far less sane One Direction fandom. (Judge me if you want to, I did too until I got to know the boys. They're each perfect in their own little way.) Well, anyway, two of them are quite obviously in love with each other and it's kind of taken over my life to the point that I had to write about it. If you're narrow-minded or homophobic, simply don't read. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy this because I think this is one of my best works yet, even if it is quite drabble-ey.**

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Harry sighed, emerging from the kitchen with two mugs of chamomile, breathing in the hot steam and allowing it to soothe his nerves. Holding them carefully in both hands, he began the journey to the living room.

Louis' eyes flickered across Harry's face for only a moment as the curly haired boy crossed the path between him and the television screen. His blank expression didn't change as he continued to scroll through the list of shows. In all honesty, his expression hadn't changed since the moment they had turned off the camera at the interview today.

"Anything good on tonight?" Harry asked, gesturing with his chin to the television, not that the older boy could see.

"Not that I've found." Louis muttered in response, eyes never leaving the screen.

With a sigh, he changed the small talk to another topic.

"I made you some tea." He muttered, holding the mug out towards the other boy. At last, the blue eyes drifted away from the screen, meeting Harry's for the first time in forever… well, maybe not _exactly_ forever, but it might as well have been. It had been too long.

"Thanks," he replied simply, the corner of his lips tugging tightly, awkwardly. "Set it on the table for me?"

Harry dragged to coasters across the tabletop, setting his own mug next to Lou's in the center of the table. A moment later, he almost regretted not placing the hot cups directly on the wood because if Lou was scolding him, at least he would be talking.

He sunk into the couch, leaving about half a cushion of space between himself and his flat mate who had made himself semi-comfortable in the corner. Harry said nothing but simply watched Louis as he returned to scrolling through the guide. Even at ten o'clock at night, in sweats and a t-shirt, Harry was sure that Lou was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. His hair was flat against his face, just the way it had been when Harry had first met him, the way it looked when he got out of the shower before bed, the way it looked when Harry woke up beside him- Harry loved his hair like that. Emerald eyes traced his cheekbones then his jawbone, down his neck to the fading love bite that marked the space as _his._

"Harry," Louis said sharply.

He blinked, cheeks flushing slightly, at the sound of his name. He met stunning, tired blue eyes, "How am I supposed to do _anything_ when you're staring at me like that?"

Ordinarily, Harry might have apologized and busied himself with something else. However, this tension wasn't ordinary.

"You're not." The words fell from his lips before he could even give it a second thought.

With a dramatic sigh, Louis pressed a button, letting the screen fade to black. Harry wasn't sorry though. If there had been anything interesting on TV, they would have been watching it.

"What's so awfully important that you can't just let me be for a few minutes?" He turned, lips twisting to the side as he awaited a response.

"You." Harry replied simply, watching with fascination as a gentle rosy glow formed it his boyfriend's cheeks. "Something's been bothering you all day. We tell each other everything, Lou."

He moved his hand slowly, eyes scanning Louis' face to make sure his touch was welcome, to gently brush a flushed cheek with his thumb. Lou leaned into the touch, his face resting entirely in the palm of Harry's hand as he took a deep breath. A soft smile formed on Harry's lips and he wondered if maybe he had just over-thought the whole thing. But a pained expression, starting with furrowed eyebrows, began to work its way across the once-blissful face. His empty hand hung stupidly in the air as Louis pulled away, leaning further into the corner of the couch than he had been before.

"I don't want to talk about it." the older boy replied, eyes locked onto the hands that were now fumbling over each other in his lap.

"But we tell each other everything." Harry repeated, feeling his own brows beginning to pucker.

He stared, waiting, as if somehow this would changes Lou's mind. But he said nothing as his hands continued to tumble over each other with no real pattern.

"But there _is_ something wrong though?" Harry persisted, eyes roaming the boy's figure, hunched over as if he might be able to fold into himself and hide away.

Harry watched closely as Louis took a breath which straightened him back into a relatively normal from his corner, he gently lifted the nearest mug from its coaster, cradling the tea with both hands as he took a few long sips. Harry knew exactly what the whispy-haired boy was doing, even if he himself didn't: buying his time. Harry absentmindedly twisted the Leeds bracelet around his wrist, fighting off the memories that resurfaced at its sight, as he waited for the boy to continue.

"Harry," he voice broke out flatly atop the dull _ping_ of the mug hitting the coaster, "I've hardly even had time to think about it yet… I just don't want to talk about this right now."

And just like that Harry's heart stopped. He hadn't had time to think about it. _Think about it._ People don't _think_ about things unless they plan on making decisions. There are only two decisions in a relationship: to start it and to end it.

Hardly able to swallow, let alone breathe, he choked out, "Think about it?"

Harry could do nothing but watch as Louis sighed, ocean-blue eyes meeting his own once again with a sad sparkle before wandering off to some dark corner of the room. That was all the confirmation he needed.

He bit his lip. Hard. It was all he could do to know that he was still alive in that moment. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't talk. He couldn't even feel anything spare for the pinch of his teeth and the water welling in his eyes.

_"Hazza."_ Louis breathed the word. Harry's breath caught, suddenly filling his lungs with new air and sending a stray tear falling from his eye.

He wiped it away quickly, hoping somehow Louis hadn't seen it.

"_Why?_" he choked, sounding just as lifeless as he felt, before clearing his throat to try again, "Why do you have to think about it?"

The stiffening silence only grew as the boy carefully licked his lips. Harry's eyes darted to the table, suddenly fascinated by the almost-golden liquid that filled the china cup, yet he still couldn't ignore it as the petit brunet twisted in his seat. He felt, rather than saw, those familiar eyes on him.

"You don't want this?" The words stirred something deep inside of him, like the butterflies that had become so familiar around Lou had been replaced by shards of glass, but if Lou wasn't going to say them, he was. "How long?"

He unfocused his eyes from the mug in front of him, and turned to meet the blue eyes that he had felt watching him closely. They were wide, glistening darkly, and Harry wanted nothing more than to take away the pain, even if he was causing it.

He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw to keep more tears from falling, "How long has it been, Lou?"

"Why me?" In a rushed whisper, Louis voice finally broke free, his thoughts proving to be just as distant as the glimmer in his eyes, "Why _me,_ Harry?"

Harry's face contorted, this time in confusion, as he became lost in searching those blue depths for some type of answer. The gaze only faltered as a fresh tear track formed across the tanned face, the soft shine stealing his attention. On reflex he found his hand reaching to wipe it away, but he caught himself mid-air and returned it to his lap. _It would only make things worse_, he thought, forming a fist and kneading it with his other hand.

"You're not making any sense…" he muttered, once more finding himself staring at the tattered bracelet on his arm.

Lou drew in a shaky breath- Harry had to take a breath, too, to keep from trapping the boy in his arms and refusing to ever let go- before letting out an eerie whisper, "_You could have any girl in the world, Harry_."

His head shot up with an incredulous look, to find Louis biting his lip and staring at the couch cushion. The tears were falling freely from his face now, but he didn't seem to care. Harry knew he wasn't even in that moment.

_"You could have any girl in the world, Harry." The brunette grinned, dark eyes glistening at the thought of new gossip, as she leaned in toward him, microphone in hand, "And, frankly, the cougars too… but you know that. So why stay single?"_

He vaguely remembered some cheeky response about how he liked the freedom of not being tied down, having grown accustomed to deflecting questions about his romantic life with little or no effort.

_"You aren't ever tempted?" she pressed, dark eyes somehow becoming darker, "With all of these fans throwing themselves at you left and right? Models, actresses, singers… all willing to date you if only you were to ask. You never just want to give in to it all?"_

_He narrowed his eyes at the question, finding Louis' darting to a corner of the room._

_"That's_ what this is about?" he asked, turning his body to fully face the heartbreaking sight in front him.

"You could have any girl in the world, Harry." he whispered to the cushion, "_Any_ girl. Why would you choose…" The words trailed off, but with a soft swallow he rediscovered his voice, "It wouldn't be easy, and people would say-"

Unable to take any more, Harry bent forward, bringing the tearstained face upward with the brush of a finger and pressing a chaste kiss against Lou's soft, tear-damp lips.

"Because _any girl_ wouldn't be you." he whispered, lips brushing Louis' as he spoke. His eyes met those piercing blue ones, still sad but with a little shine of hope. "I _love_ you, Lou… Don't you know that?"

The pained expression resurfaced as the older boy leaned back, Harry copying his action to give him his space. He watched carefully as the boy took in a deep, staggered breath.

"But you _shouldn't,_ Harry." he whispered, clenching his eyes tight as he spoke, "It wouldn't be easy… people would say things, _horrible_ things. They'd be after you with their rights and wrongs, their religions and morality… They wouldn't play nice, Harry." He took another breath before adding, "They wouldn't understand."

Harry waited for the older boy to open his eyes again before he responded, wanting him to see how much he meant the words that followed.

"Louis," he hesitantly took the boy's delicate hand in his own, "You think I don't know that? You think I didn't spend _countless nights_ thinking about how difficult it would be… trying to deny to myself how I felt about you? I _knew_ this wasn't going to be easy before it even started, but do you know something else? I know how much worse it would be to try to live without you, to try not to love you. It's impossible, Lou."

This time it was he who had to look away, head tilted to the cushions as his eyes began to water at the thought. Lou was his happiness, his comfort, his family… Lou was his _life._

He heard that familiar breath catch for a moment before he felt the chill of graceful fingertips gliding across his skin. With a gentle brush, he felt them wipe away a falling teardrop before continuing to his hairline. A wave of comfort overcame him as he felt the gentle hand become tangled in his curls.

"I just don't want this to be something you regret." Louis confessed, his blue eyes shining with a curious gleam, almost making the words a question.

"You're being ridiculous," Harry muttered, trapping his lips in a different, more passionate kiss. His lips moved longingly against Louis', making every effort to convey each emotion that the boy stirred inside of him. His free hand slid to the small of the petit boy's back, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but smile when he felt a response- lips parting and moving back against his own as the familiar fingers continued to massage his hair.

It was Lou who broke the embrace now, pulling back. Harry opened his eyes to find the faintest smile dancing across his thin lips.

"You promise this is what you want?" he whispered, looking Harry up and down with a bit of amusement. Harry wondered for a moment if Lou knew the effect the slightest of glances had on him.

"More than anything…" he breathed, pausing a moment before adding, "You want this too, right?"

His eyes roamed the beautiful face before him, suddenly unsure. Those beautiful eyes were sparkling, and his lips were set in their natural smile. He never really understood how someone so perfect would want to be with someone like himself.

_"Always,"_ Harry heard him whisper as the hand slid from his curls to his neck, drawing him forward into another embrace. There was a soft _thump_ as Lou's back hit the cushions, pulling Harry down with him. There was a clatter of china as his leg swung up from the momentum of the kiss, brushing the tabletop as he regained his balance. He felt the smile beneath his lips rather than saw it. "We'll clean it up later."


End file.
